Nothing Like Love to Pull You Up
by kabensi
Summary: Several years later, Quinn and Rachel reconnect. Future!Fic Femslash RachelQuinn
1. Chapter 1

1

"Miss Berry!"  
"Over here!"  
"Rachel!"  
"Here!"

Pose. Flash. Sign.

Rachel Berry took the time greet and smile at everyone who was crowded around the barricades that separated them from the stage door exit. To someone like Madonna or Britney or Hannah Montana, the group of thirty or so fans clamoring for her autograph probably seemed rather insignificant. But for a Wednesday night performance of a show that had been running for over a decade, Rachel was appreciative of anyone who wanted to see her. She was especially fond of the younger kids who reminded her of herself on those seasonal trips she took with her dads to check out the latest Broadway shows.

One little voice, in particular, caught her attention.

"Miss Berry! Miss Berry!"

She traced the shouts back to a young girl, probably eight or so, with her Playbill clutched tightly in one hand and a Sharpie in the other.

"Well, hello." Rachel took the pen and program from her out-stretched hands. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Maddy. I mean, Madison. Madison Fabray."

The pen slipped across the page in her hand and Rachel worried she'd just ruined the girl's program. "Madison what?"

"Fabray. F-A-B-R-A-Y."

Rachel make quick work of the ink slip and quickly turned the random line into a broomstick, then passed it back to Madison. She took a long, hard look at the small blond girl in the "Defy Gravity" t-shirt, then shifted her eyes to the woman standing closest to her. It was a stocky Puerto Rican woman.

The breath pushed itself out of Rachel's lungs and she realized she'd been holding it in. The crowd dispersed as the security guard waved them away. Madison clung to the metal barrier, in an attempt to savor as much time standing near the Broadway star as possible. She turned to flag down someone behind her.

"Mom! I got it!" She waved the Playbill in the air. "You should come up here!" She turned back to Rachel. "She didn't want to get squished by all the people. I don't care so much about that."

Rachel just nodded, her eyes on the woman who now approached the railing.

"Hi, Rachel."

"Quinn?" She looked down at Madison. "So, she really is..."

Quinn nodded. "She's a bit of an Oz junkie. When she found out I went to school with Elphaba, she begged me every day for a week to come see the show."

Madison beamed up at Rachel. "You're even prettier up close and in person. And not green."

Rachel smiled. "Well, thank you."

Madison's eyes lit up. "Will you sign my ticket, too?

"Maddy, honey," Quinn eyed the impatient looking security guard, I'm sure Miss Berry has things to do."

"It'll just take a second, Mom."

"It's fine." Rachel took the ticket stub, signed it, then frowned. "You were all the way up in the mezzanine?"

Madison shrugged. "That's all we could get."

"Well, Miss Madison, that is unacceptable." Rachel leaned down closer to the girl. "How long are you in town?"

"Till Saturday. Then I have to go to stinky Aunt Mary's house in Connecticut."

"Madison!" Quinn's tone was pure maternal reprimand.

"Tell you what, if it's okay with your mom, you come back tomorrow and tell them you're here for the Very Berry special."

Madison's eyes went wide. "Really? Oh, can we, Mom? PUH-LEASE say yes?"

Quinn bounced her glance from Rachel to her daughter then back to Rachel. "If I don't, I'm sure you'll make me feel like I clipped the wings off a flying monkey."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

Madison squealed. "Thank you, Mom! Thank you, Miss Berry!"

"Thanks, Rachel."

"Musical theatre is meant to be experienced, not viewed from afar like some kind of eclipse."

By this point, the crowd was gone and the security guard held the door open for Rachel. He looked at his watch.

"You should stop by again, after the show." Rachel was looking at Madison, but the message was directed at Quinn.

"We will," Madison answered for herself and her mother.

Rachel disappeared through the stage door, leaving Quinn alone with a very animated and over-joyed pre-tween.


	2. Chapter 2

2

"Cosmo?"

The bartender placed the drink in front of Quinn. She slid her credit card across the bar. "Keep it open."

"Sure thing."

Maybe it was cliche, a gal out on the town ordering a Cosmopolitan, but she decided it wasn't, really, since Sex and the City had been off the air for a long time, now.

The bar was small and maybe sat about thirty-five people at max capacity. Upstairs there was apparently a larger venue, but she was comfortable down here in the piano bar. People took turns at the microphone, making for a karaoke type experience, only everyone who performed was pretty good. It reminded her a lot of glee club.

Her attention shifted to her drink, where she tried to spear the floating strawberries with her tiny cocktail straw. She wasn't looking to get tanked, just this was just a drink to take the edge off, to rest her feet after chasing her daughter around Midtown Manhattan. And to not try and think about tomorrow,whe she would, once again, be face to face with Rachel Berry. It was already enough that she'd been nervous as hell about the possibility of running into her. Now, there was astandign invitation that would crush Madison if she didn't take it.

They hadn't spoken since shortly after Maddy was born. Well, that wasn't true. In the beginning, there had been emails, some phone calls, and a single visit, when Rachel came back through Ohio on an autograph tour. But that was it. And, at the time, Quinn told herself she was fine with it. They'd become friends during her pregnancy, because Rachel was always there when no one else was. Briefly, maybe, they were even more than that, or Quinn thought so. The night of the mid-term party, they'd kissed during Spin-the-Bottle, then ended up in Quinn's room, mostly engaged in awkward small talk. That led to Quinn breaking down into tears over the baby and what to do, which ended up with Rachel kissing her and telling her everything was going to be all right.

"You've got all of us, Quinn."

"I also have very conservative parents who will likely ship me off to some special school for girls in trouble."

"I seriously doubt they have a time machine that goes back to 1950."

Quinn smiled, but then it faded. "I'm scared." She began to cry, again.

Rachel considered more words of encouragement, but chose non-verbal comfort, instead. She kissed Quinn through the tears and Quinn, too exhausted to worry about what it all meant,kibe ssed her back. When she woke up the next morning with Rachel's arm wrapped around her, she felt secure, protected, and not in the clumsy, obligatory was that Finn tried to protect her.

Over the next several months, they'd end up this way, wrapped up in each other on nights Quinn suggested that they hang out. It was easy, actually, because she could hide behind the pregnancy, saying she was too tired to go out, that she felt silly being the pregnant girl at parties. They didn't talk about what they were doing, maybe because they were both afraid that if they addressed it, it might disappear. Which it did, anyway. As Quinn's due date approached and with Nationals looming overhead, stays became less and less frequent.

When Madison was born, Rachel doted on her like she was family. But soon after the big birthday, Rachel got her own exciting news: A talent scout had seen her performance at nationals and she was offered a scholarship to a very prestigious performing arts academy in New York. It was the kind of institution that basically guaranteed a shot at Broadway. And Rachel Berry was never one to miss a chance to achieve her dream.

Quinn kept up with her rise to the top. She'd often type Rachel's name into the search field on her web browser and check for the any breaking news articles. She'd known Rachel was headlining Wicked well before her daughter began hinting that she'd like tickets for Christmas. That was when she let it slip that she actually knew Rachel. Maddy nearly hit the roof.

"What?! You know her?"

"I did."

"When?"

"In high school."

"Can you call her?"

"It's been a long time."

"Oh. Did she pick on you? Was she mean?"

A laugh. "Not quite."


	3. Chapter 3

3

Maddy's persistence, combined with Quinn's curiosity, led to a Ticketmaster purchase and an addition to their annual East Coast holiday itinerary. The seats were pretty far away, but even from Row G on the Mezzanine, Quinn recognized the body movements, the facial expressions, and the vocal power of Rachel Berry. It was up there, in the nosebleeds, that she realized how much she'd missed that voice.

"Am I going to need a restraining order?" THAT voice.

Quinn whipped her gaze up from her new empty glass. "Rachel."

The singer grinned and leaned close, trying to be heard over the current singer. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I needed some peace and quiet." She glanced over at the man who was belting out a medley of Broadway selections. They both laughed. "Trust me, this is peaceful. You have no idea how many times an eight year old can relive five minutes of her life."

"She seems like a very sweet kid."

"She is."

Rachel signaled to the bartender to bring over a round. He already had her drink prepared, a dirty martini, and set it, along with anothercosmo, down next to them.

"Thanks, Henry. And make sure this and whatever else she's had is on my tab."

"You don't have to--"

"Quinn, the least I owe you is a couple drinks."

Quinn relented and raised her glass. "Fine. What are we drinking to?"

"Old friends?"

"Are we?"

Rachel ignored the question and took a drink. "So, are you still with--"

"Haven't been for a very long time."

"How did you even know what I was going to say?"

"It's been just me and Maddy for a while, now."

"Is everything all right?"

"We manage just fine."

"Good."

All attention went back to their drinks until Quinn said, "Real estate."

Rachel leaned over and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Sorry?"

"That was going to be your next question, right? What do I do now?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it was. So that's going well for you, then?"

"Well, enough."

Rachel nodded and took a sip of her martini. She almost choked on it.

Quinn put her hand on her shoulder, "What?"

She realized Rachel was laughing. "I just remembered that bench across from school. Chuck Walters--"

"King of the Hills!" Quinn chimed in, then giggled. "Poor Chuck."

The Chuck Walters bus bench ad was a showcase of McKinley High School student artwork. Anyone seeking out Chuck based on the imagery based on that particular rendition of the real estate guru would be surprised to learn that he lacked horns, any form of mustache, still owned all of his original teeth, and did not have and form of penis protruding from out entering into any part of his face.

Rachel sat straight up and grabbed Quinn's hand. "Oh no!"

"What?" Quinn glanced around the room, then down at their hands.

"You haven't been Chuck Walter-ed have you?"

Quinn laughed. "No. I'm not a big stud like Chuck. No bench ads for me. But I do have card with my face on it!" She dug into her purse and produced a glossy business card.

Rachel snatched it out of her hand. "Very nice." She studied the photo of Quinn, her hair back tight and a smile worthy of a Cheerio. In fact, if you swapped out the business suit for acheerleading sweater, it was very similar to several pictures in a decade old copy of the MHS yearbook.

"It's not lit up in Times Square, but it does the job."

The next performer began to sing "Cabaret" and Rachel shuddered.

"She's not that bad."

"No, it's not that. Just, every time hear this song, I see Mr. Ryerson's face screaming at me."

"Oh, right. That time you ditched glee for drama."

"I didn't 'ditch' glee. I was forced to make a decision. And they tricked me."

"They tricked Rachel Berry into the lead role of the school musical? Right."

"You can't tell a motivated rising star to audition with the Celine Dion song of their choice and note expect them to show up."

Quinn smirked. "That is so Sue." She poked Rachel's arm. "You still ditched glee. And I had to fill in for you."

"You didn't seem to mind," Rachel said, then hid behind her glass.

"What song?"

"What song, what?"

"What song did you sing?"

"When I auditioned for Cabaret?"

"Yes."

"I don't remember."

"Like shit, you don't." Quinn was about to hit the bottom of her second drink.

"It was a really long time ago."

"Dig deep, Berry."

Rachel took a lingering sip of her martini, then mumbled, "Taking Chances."

It wasn't apparent if Quinn heard her, because a man stepped up to them and politely addressed Rachel.

"Excuse me, Ms. Berry?"

Rachel turned to face him. "Yes?"

"We," he gestured to another guy behind him, "were wondering if we could get a picture with you?"

"Sure!"

He looked to Quinn and held out his camera. "Would you mind?"

Quinn took the camera, gave Rachel a questioned belief in whether or not this was actually happening, then snapped the photo. As she handed the camera back, she said to the man, "Wouldn't you guys like to hear her sing something?"

"Oh, we listen to her all the time. We have her Best Of playlist in the car," the first man replied, giddy.

The second guy interjected, "I think she meant, right now."

Rachel's hand was gripping her arm. "Quinn, what are you doing?"

"I just asked them a question."

"What song?" asked the gentleman with the camera.

"A very special selection."

"Quinn..."

"As soon as Ms. Berry's finished with her beverage, she'll be taking the stage."

One of the guys actually squealed, then scrambled off back to their seats.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Giving you a chance to make up for ditching glee." Quinn tilted her glass and finished the remainder of the drink. "The first time."

"That's not fair."

"What's not fair is that you are way behind." She tapped on the base of Rachel's glass, then turned to make eye contact with the bartender. "Henry!"


	4. Chapter 4

4

It took a bit more prodding and a second martini, but Rachel finally gave in and agreed to sing. Quinn didn't see what the big deal was.

"You sing all the time. It's your job."

"I know! And I don't like putting unnecessary strain on my voice." Even as the words left her mouth, Rachel knew they were ridiculous, but she didn't let Quinn know that.

"It's a piano bar, not Italian opera." Quinn grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off the barstool.

"You're going to make me sing that Celine song, aren't you."

Quinn nodded. Rachel grimaced and walked over to the small stage. Normally, there would only be piano accompaniment, but word had quickly buzzed around the place that Rachel Berry planned to sing, and there was suddenly a house band in place. Despite the fact that she'd resisted, she cheerfully greeted the room from behind the microphone.

"Hello, everyone!" She waited as the room shouted back their return greetings. "So, I don't normally do this, a lot, anymore. But, at the request of... an old friend, here I am."

The band began to play. Quinn settled back into her seat, not sure why she was so pleased with herself for making Rachel perform. Seeing the other woman on stage earlier that night had brought back memories of glee and high school and made her nostalgic for a time long gone. Seeing her now, singing with her eyes fixed in Quinn's general direction, made her dizzy. Maybe it was partially due to the cosmopolitans, but it was more than likely the intimacy of the performance and the fact that Rachel was electric whenever she sang. In the theatre, there was a buffer, plenty of space between them. Here, Quinn got a concentrated dose of Rachel.

//I just want to start again...//

She told herself not to read into the song, especially since she was the one who convinced Rachel to sing it, anyway. Although, she had not requested that Rachel single her out of the audience and make direct eye-contact during the key-change climax in the final chorus. By the time the song ended, Quinn was breathless.

"Thank you!" Rachel smiled and waved to the audience, which offered a frenzied applause in return. She slid back onto the stool next to Quinn. "There. Happy?"

Quinn forced her head to nod response, since her mouth didn't seem to work, right away. "That was amazing."

"You sound surprised."

"I just... forgot what it was like. Hearing you sing."

"Did you also forget that you just saw me do a whole show earlier tonight?"

"That's different. I mean, that was great, too. But just you in a room..."

"Are you all right?"

"I might need to go outside for some air or something."

Someone began to sing "Defying Gravity" as Rachel led Quinn out the front door to the sidewalk.

Quinn leaned with her back up against the side of the building coat pulled tightly around her. "You can go back in if you want."

Rachel shook her head. She was face to face with Quinn and leaned closer so she could lower her voice. "The reason I don't sing at these venues, anymore, is because of the wave of tribute songs that follow. I love my fans, but I can only take so much of the amateur night showcase."

Quinn swatted at her shoulder. "You're kind of mean! And here I thought you'd gotten shy on me." Her hand lingered on Rachel's upper arm.

"Rachel Berry doesn't--"

"Get shy, I know."

Rachel was still standing really close to her, which was fine, because it was cold out. She was wearing boots with heels which nearly evened her out to Quinn's height, though Quinn still had a good couple inches on the brunette, so when Rachel kissed her neither of them had to reach very far. And, suddenly, Quinn was sixteen, again, with liquor taking the place of pregnancy hormones as the excuse for ending up like this, lip locked with Rachel.

FLASH. "Ms. Berry, who's your lady friend?"

Rachel whipped around, leaving Quinn up against the wall, eyes sensitive to the blinding camera flash that broke through the night.

She heard Rachel shout. "I could kill you!"

"Aren't you going to introduce-- Holy shit, it's Quinn Fabray."

Quinn's eyes adjusted and she took a good look at the photographer. It was Kurt Hummel. Rachel had commandeered his camera and now held it out of reach. Except, right now, he wasn't reaching for it, he was just staring at Quinn, slack-jawed.

"Yeah, hi to you, too Kurt."

"How long has this been going on?" He looked to Rachel. "Is this why you didn't want me to set you up with--"

Rachel pressed the camera into his hand. "Okay, Kurt, nice to see you, I'll call you tomorrow night."

"Bring her!" He smiled at Quinn. "Every other Thursday, we all meet up."

"We all?"

"Yeah, me, Rachel, and Brittany."

"Goodbye, Kurt!" Rachel was pushing him down the sidewalk. One he was moving on his own back toward his group of friend, Rachel hooked her arm in Quinn's and pulled her further down Christopher street. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I should probably go, anyway."

"Already?"

"I have a kid, remember?"

"Where is she, anyway?"

"Carriage ride in Central Park. I paid the driver to just keep circling."

"Quinn!" Rachel looked genuinely concerned.

"Relax, we're staying with my cousin. She's in bed. Actually, she probably conned Dave into letting her stay up and play video games."

"Do you need a ride? I can call my driver."

"It's just a few blocks over."

"It's December."

"I'll be fine. We'll see you tomorrow night after the show." Quinn began to walk further down the street, leaving Rachel behind with Kurt and a bar full of fans ready to express their appreciation to her through song.


	5. Chapter 5

5

//Be my, be my little baby...//

Quinn stirred as The Ronettes and the Wall of Sound broke through her haze of sleep. Her hand groped around to find her cell phone. She found it and tried to focus on the screen long enough to tap the snooze button. Only it wasn't the alarm, it was call.

She cleared her throat. "Hello?"

"Yes, may I speak with Madison Fabray, please?"

"Who's calling?"

"This is Rachel Berry's assistant."

Quinn sat up and tried to find her bearings. So far, everything about this moment didn't to much to convince her that she wasn't still asleep.

"May I ask what this is about?"

"Ms. Berry would like to finalize some details with Miss Fabray." Rachel iwould/i make a big production out of this.

The apartment was fairly small, so it took only a few seconds for Quinn to exit the guest bedroom and find Madison and Dave playing Rock Band. "Maddy. Phone."

The game paused and Maddy climbed out from behind the drum kit, handed the sticks to her mother, and took the phone. "Hello? Yes." She disappeared into the other room.

Quinn sat down on the edge of the sofa where Dave sat with the Rock Band guitar in his lap. He leaned back and grinned at his cousin. "You got in late last night."

"Not that late."

"Late enough that you slept in past nine." He nodded toward the clock. It was a quarter to ten. "You're usually up before me."

"That's not hard. You're a Greenwich village musician." She poked at him with the drumsticks.

"A working Greenwich village musician. I'll have you know that Dave Rygalski is in high demand."

Madison bounded back into the living room. "Mom, we have to get ready."

"For what?"

"The Very Berry Special!"

"That's not until tonight."

"No, it starts at eleven, with lunch."

"Lunch, where?"

"I don't know, they're sending a car."

"Okay, wait, start over."

Madison sighed. "Mom, pay attention. A car is coming here at eleven to take us to a special lunch with Miss Berry."

Leave it to Rachel to find a way to force Quinn to interact with her. Then, again, maybe this was just about giving Madison a memorable experience. Leave it to Rachel to make Quinn assume everything was about her.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, they'd been standing on the curb for a good ten minutes. Madison was very concerned about making sure the car didn't show up and leave without them. Quinn wanted to make sure that Dave would be all right with them heading off without him, since they had originally planned to do some sightseeing together. He insisted it was fine and admitted he was looking forward to the chance to take a nap.

A black Lincoln Town Car pulled up in front of them. The rear windows were tinted, making it impossible to see if Rachel was inside. Quinn's stomach fluttered at the possibility, but it was all for nothing once the driver opened the door to reveal an empty backseat.

Madison watched eagerly out the window as the car pulled into traffic. "Where do you think we're going?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think it's fancy?"

"I don't know, Maddy."

"I hope it's not too fancy. I kind of just want a cheeseburger."

Quinn laughed. "Well, even if it's fancy, I'm sure you'll have a great time."

The car proceeded through the streets, moving uptown, until it pulled to a stop. The driver came around and opened to door for them.

"Ms. Berry is right inside." He pointed to the diner directly in front of them.

Madison and Quinn exchanged a look, then smiled at each other. They stepped into the restaurant and were greeted by a bubbly hostess who led them to a booth in the back corner, where Rachel sat waiting with a man.

Madison's eyes lit up when she saw him. "Boq! Mom! It's Boq!"

Rachel and "Boq" stood up to greet them. "Madison, I hope you don't mind, but I invited a friend along to lunch. This is Tom."

Tom smiled at the young girl. "Pleased to meet you." He shook her hand.

Rachel turned to Quinn, "Quinn Fabray, Tom Lenk."

Quinn smiled, "Hi. Nice to meet you."

Rachel leaned over to Tom, "She's secretly a Buffy geek, so watch out. Once, in high school, she made a bunch of us marathon all the episodes over Spring Break."

"Shut up!" Quinn replied, a little too loudly.

Fortunately, Madison had already dragged Tom into the booth. Unfortunately, this meant Rachel and Quinn had to side together on the same side. Not that it was truly unfortunate, but in Quinn's mind it was a bit awkward, considering the previous evening.

But, again, this wasn't about her. Madison made that very evident.

"Miss Berry, what's your favorite thing to eat here?"

"Okay, first things first, Miss Fabray: Now that we're friends, I think you can call me Rachel."

"Really?"

Rachel nodded. "And secondly, I hear the cheeseburgers here are out of this world."

"That's just what I wanted! Mom, wasn't I just saying that?"

Quinn nodded. "You sure were." She looked to Rachel. "How did you know?"

"I happen to recall more than a few late late night cheeseburger runs when you were pregnant with this one."

It was true. Quinn was generally into healthy foods, both in high school and now, partially due to habits she picked up from her time with the Cheerios. But when she was carrying Madison, there were several occasions when she craved cheeseburgers, sometimes a double.

Through the meal, Madison asked question after question about Wicked and neither of the actors seemed to mind. Once it was time for dessert, Madison engaged Tom in an in-depth analysis of the dessert selections.

Quinn leaned closer to Rachel, her voice quiet. "You didn't have to do all this."

"Yes, I did." Rachel looked over at Madison. "I missed the first eight Hannukahs. And Christmases. And birthdays."

"Well, just know, you've set a high bar and she's going to expect this every year." Quinn bumped Rachel's shoulder with her own.

"Every year? Does that mean you'll be coming back to see me?" She bumped back.

"Maybe." Bump.

Now they were just leaning against each other, trying to push the other over. Madison looked up at them.

"Are you guys fighting over the seat?" She looked appalled.

They stopped.

"No," was Rachel's quick reply.

Quinn didn't say anything in an effort to keep a straight face.

Madison went back to the menu, in an attempt to select the perfect dessert. She was interrupted by an outburst of giggles from her mother and her idol.

She looked over at Tom. "They are so weird."

Tom nodded in agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

6

After lunch, Tom bade farewell to the ladies, but not before helping Madison finish off the Triple Jumpy Monkey sundae she ordered.

Quinn wasn't expecting Rachel to commandeer the entire afternoon, but then, Rachel was one for plans and the execution of said plans, so when she announced that they had an itinerary to follow, Quinn wasn't really surprised.

Rachel took them on a tour of her favorite childhood spots in the city. She had very fond memories from the visits she took with her dads and felt it was important for Madison to have a chance at similar experiences.

Their final stop was the Rockefeller Center ice skating rink. After several laps, both Quinn and Rachel collapsed onto one of the benches, while Madison continued to maneuver around the ice.

"Okay, I know why I'm tired, but don't you have a personal trainer or something?" asked Quinn.

Rachel laughed. "No, I don't. I do have a rigorous routine, though."

"Of course you do. And I'm sure it involves an elliptical machine in your bedroom."

"Well, it has it's own room, now. My bedroom is no longer a makeshift gym." She pulled off her gloves, then leaned down to untie the laces of her skates. "Not for traditional workouts, anyway."

"Is that how you're staying in shape?"

Rachel smirked. "That's none of your business."

"Is it? For all I know it's what you and Kurt and Brittany do every other Thursday night. In which case, I was invited."

"Please. Kurt cries when he thinks about seeing one vagina, let alone two. Three, counting yours. And suddenly, this is very awkward."

Quinn bit her lip to keep from laughing. "So, it's not a bi-weekly booty call." She removed her own gloves and went to work on her skate laces.

"No. It is not. We just get together and hang out and catch up. Sometimes we end up at karaoke or the piano bar." Rachel slipped her feet into her boots.

"What about all the unnecessary strain on your voice?"

"Okay, so I was mostly full of crap last night."

"Oh, really?" Quinn pulled on her own shoes and set the skates on the bench next to her.

"You made me nervous. Though, I really do have a hard time with the amateurs butchering the classics."

"I made you nervous."

"Yes, you did."

"Why?"

"You know why."

Quinn did know. She hoped she did, anyway. A long time had passed since they'd had... whatever it was they'd had. Their hands were resting next to each other on the bench. By now, it would have made sense to put their gloves back on, it being a New York December day and all, but then the couldn't pretend that their fingers were accidentally touching and absently rubbing against each other.

"You didn't seem so nervous outside the bar."

"Singing amps up my adrenaline levels. You should know that."

Quinn picked up her hand, which was now laced together with Rachel's and scooted closer to her. "What else amps your adrenaline levels?"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"You're the one holding my hand."

"Um, you are the one holding my hand." Rachel squeezed her fingers together and drew attention to the fact that their hands were sitting in Quinn's lap.

"Maybe I'm just cold."

"Next you're going to suggest that we make out to warm up."

"Nope. Can't."

"Too public?"

"Too distracting. I have to keep an eye on my kid."

"You really do make a great mom." It wasn't part of the banter. Rachel was serious. And proud of Quinn.

"Is that a surprise?"

"Not at all."

At four-thirty, Rachel had to leave their company, but left them with her driver who dropped them off for dinner, then took them to the theatre for the final leg of the Very Berry Special. It was only six, two hours before curtain, and Quinn wondered what was in store for Madison.

Rachel met them at the stage door and proceeded to take them on a tour of the theatre. She even let Madison stand center stage. There, in that moment, Quinn saw something in her daughter she'd only seen years ago.

She'd once found Rachel in the empty auditorium, center stage, standing before an imaginary audience, taking in their inaudible cheers. Right now, Madison had the same look on her face. When Quinn was sixteen, she thought about ridiculous things, like whether the baby knew what was going on and if she might come out humming showtunes.

She looked at Rachel, who beamed with a sense of pride. And even though Quinn knew it was impossible, this wasn't the first time she thought Madison seemed more like a product of herself and Rachel Berry than anyone else.

They continued their tour of the theatre, meeting various cast members as they arrived. Eventually, they stopped in front of a door that boasted a gold star with "Rachel Berry" emblazoned across it. Quinn couldn't help but roll her eyes and laugh.

Rachel ignored her and pushed open the door to her dressing room. Madison scrambled inside, taking in the green sofa and the rack full of Elphaba costumes. She was in heaven.

While Rachel took pictures of Madison in the trademark black pointy hat, Quinn took in the personal touches of the room. There were the signature Rachel Berry motivations posted here and there, a digital picture frame with pictures of her family and friends, various cutouts and photos lining the edges of the mirror. Her own real estate card was tucked among the images and this made her stomach flutter just a bit.

She didn't really get a chance to talk much to Rachel before the show. At the rink, they'd sat, enjoying each other's company without further complicating things with deep conversation. It was a lot like those nights they spent together. But they were older now, able to make choices, do what they wanted to do. And Quinn wanted to figure out what that was.

For the moment, though, she was in a prime seat for a Broadway classic with her daughter gasping and squealing at the detail of each costume and set piece that had only been familiar colors and shapes the night before. When the show ended, they were escorted back to Rachel's dressing room, where Madison was presented with just about every piece of Wicked merchandise.

"Rachel, seriously, this is too much."

"Quinn, I already told you, I'm making up for lost time. The lost Hannukahs alone account for sixty four days of missed gift giving."

Quinn sighed and knew there was no arguing with her.

Rachel gave them a ride back to Dave's apartment then insisted on coming up to meet Dave himself. Quinn figured this was the end of the evening, but found both Dave and Madison insisting that she go back out with Rachel for a chance to catch up.

"Where are you meeting Kurt and Brittany?"

"A piano bar uptown, but that's not until later."

They were sitting in Rachel's apartment. It was a moderately sized two bedroom, but nothing extravagant. It did, however, have a beautiful fireplace that currently blazed in front of them. Rachel had taken in upon herself to mix up some martinis for a pre-outing drink.

"You really made her day, today, you know. She'll be talking about it to everyone she knows for the next six months."

"Good."

The first round of drinks was dedicated to assorted small talk. The second round brought with it reflection of time gone by.

"You could have called."

"And said what?"

"It wouldn't have mattered."

"I figured you were content with your life, you know?"

"That doesn't mean I didn't want to hear from you. You're the one who got me through a very difficult time."

"It wasn't just me. It was everyone."

"It was you that got me through most of it."

They'd began on the sofa, but ended up on the floor, shoes kicked off and back leaning against the base of the couch. Their fingers were laced together, again, but that was as far as they'd dared to go. Until Quinn turned and kissed Rachel. Then it was fingers tangled in hair, groping at buttons, tugging at clothing.

It didn't progress past anything other than a very heavy makeout session, but Quinn felt more satisfied than she had in a long time. They lie on the floor, facing each other in the firelight.

"I could have called," Rachel said, quietly.

Quinn took her hand and kissed the palm. "I guess you'll just have to make it up to me."

"That's what I've been telling you."

"Am I wrong to assume there's still another leg of the Very Berry Special?"

"Not wrong. Though it's an adults only edition."

"Is it some kind of non-traditional workout?"

"Possibly."

"What about your standing date with Kurt and Brittany?"

"They can wait."


	7. Chapter 7

7

Wait here."

"That's your big plan?"

"Shut up." Rachel planed a kiss on Quinn's lips, then stood up and bounded into the bedroom.

Quinn sat up and surveyed the situation; shirt unbuttoned, hair a mess, definitely disheveled. She refastened a couple of the buttons, knowing it was counter productive, but she wasn't quite ready to parade around in her undergarments, just yet.

"Rach?" She rose to her feet and padded toward the bedroom door.

Rachel cut her off before she could step inside. "You don't follow directions very well."

"It's lonely out there. But I can go back and raid the silver or something."

Rachel grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the room. There were a few candles on the dresser and nightstand, giving just enough light.

"Oh, now there's pressure to be romantic," Quinn quipped.

"Hey, this is my show."

"I hope you don't put any unnecessary strain on your voice."

"I can handle it. I'm just wondering if you can keep up."

"Vocally or otherwise."

"Both." She pushed Quinn onto the bed, a king sized piece the took up nearly half the room.

If either of them were nervous about taking this next step, neither showed it. Of course, they weren't sixteen, anymore. The years had brought with them the experiences that come with self-discovery and realization, maybe even a couple of one night stands. So, stepping it up past making out to actual sex, it was the adult thing to do. No big deal. Except it was a big deal. Because Quinn was in bed with Rachel, in nothing but her underwear. Currently, she was on top of the other woman, their hands interlocked, her knees on either side of Rachel's hips. And then, they were reversed and naked and hands were everywhere.

This is when it became about first times and discoveries: The first time Rachel realized Quinn was very, very ticklish is she nipped at that spot between her stomach and her hip bone, the first time Quinn hear Rachel groan in "that way" when she dipped her fingers "right there", the first time they caressed and writhed and panted and came together, because it wasn't just about getting off, it was about each of them and both of them and nearly ten years of waiting for this moment to happen.

Quinn must have dozed off, just for a minute, because she was jarred awake by the sound of Rachel's cell phone, which could only be reached if Rachel leaned across Quinn to grab it from the nightstand.

"Hello?"

Quinn took advantage off the warm body that was draped over her and nipped at Rachel's shoulder.

"We're just getting ready. No, we're on the way down. Don't come up, we'll meet you. Kurt? Hello? Dammit."

"What?"

"They're on their way up."

"Who? Now? Who?"

A smile broke across Rachel's face. "You're cute when you're panicked. It's just Kurt and Brittany."

"So, I should get dressed."

"Yes, probably."

They didn't make any effort to get up and dressed. Instead, they nuzzled and kissed and traced fingers over skin, until someone knocked at the apartment door.

Rachel rolled her eyes and climbed out of bed. "They're not going to leave us alone."

Quinn sighed and flung her head back on the pillow. She really didn't care if Kurt and Brittany knew what had just happened. Kurt had seen them last night and Brittany actually knew about the intimate overnight stays way back when. She would have appreciated if they'd had better timing, though.

Rachel was already dressed and in the living room. Quinn groped around for her clothes in the candlelight.

"You don't look ready," came Kurt's voice from the other room.

Thankfully, Rachel had shut the door when she left Quinn behind to get dressed. The blond checked herself in the mirror. There was no way she could pass for someone who hadn't just gotten laid. Her hair was actually okay, but the look on her face, that satisfied smile that wouldn't stop creeping up, that was going to give her away.

It didn't really matter.

"OH. MY. GOD. You two did it." Because Kurt already figured it out.

Quinn pulled open the door and presented herself to the group assembled in the living room. "Hi, guys."

Brittany didn't seem to care what had just happened, she was simply ecstatic to see her old friend and nearly tackled her in a hug. "Hi!"

Kurt smirked at Quinn, not in a menacing way, just in a Kurt way. "Good to see you, again."

And then they were off for the bi-weekly Thursday night outing. No weirdness, no awkward glances at the hand holding between Rachel and Quinn. Brittany just wanted to fill Quinn in on anything and everything since high school. They'd actually kept in touch throughFacebook, so it was really just about filling in the blanks between status updates.

They spent the first hour or so in the piano bar just catching up, and the next two hours dominating the microphone.

If Quinn was nervous about anything that happened over these past two days, taking the stage was top of the list. She hadn't kept up with singing, really. Maybe a few karaoke nights with people from the office, but nothing serious.

It was Rachel who finally convinced her.

"You'll be great."

"I can't follow you."

"It's fine. We have two totally different vocal styles."

"That's the reassurance you're going to offer me?"

"Okay, how about this? The first time I had a girl on girl sex dream was after hearing you sing."

"Really?"

Rachel nodded. "So, get up there."

Quinn rose from the table, but hesitated. "Just because you had a sex dream doesn't mean I'm good."

Kurt slammed his glass on the table. "Stop fishing for compliments and go sing a song."

Rachel gave Quinn's hand a squeeze, then pushed her toward the stage. Quinn conversed with the piano player, then came back to the table and grabbed both Kurt and Brittany.

"I need some help."

Rachel caught Quinn's eye, trying to figure out just what she was going to sing. Quinn winked at her, then pushed the other two toward the stage. After a brief huddle, they took their places with Quinn front and center with Kurt on her left and Brittany on her right.

iIt's Britney, bitch./i

The piano pounded out the bass line to iGimme More/i. Rachel couldn't stop the grin that plastered itself across her face. The rest of the bar patrons began to clap along with the song as Quinn sang and the trio broke out with some moves they somehow managed to remember from their days in glee.

By the time the number was finished, everyone was on their feet, including Rachel who then ran up to Quinn and kissed her. "That was hot."

"Maybe you'll have another one of those sex dreams."

"I can't wait to get back into bed and find out."


	8. Chapter 8

8

iGet up on this!/i

It was 2009. The WMHS glee club had just taken the stage for the first time that year. Rachel Berry strutted and gyrated around the stage. There may have been other people up there with her, but Quinn didn't notice.

And then, suddenly, they were in the choir room. Quinn sat on the piano bench, her back to the keys, and Rachel straddled her lap. She was still wearing the costume from "Push It" which was still being performed, even though Rachel was here.

"Nice waistline, Berry."

"Are we gonna do this, or what?"

"Fine."

Quinn was quickly aware that Rachel wasn't wearing any underwear under that hideous denim skirt.

Rachel shrugged. "I had to give them all away to keep him from running the story."

They were kissing, now, and the far side of the choir room was Rachel's bedroom. Quinn could tell, because of the elliptical machine. But then it was gone and Rachel was all the way over on that side of the room. She was saying something.

"What?"

"I said, would you rather be red or yellow?"

"Red or yellow what?"

"Toothbrush. Aw, are you not awake?" Rachel had a brand new toothbrush in each hand.

Quinn let her eyes focus. She was not in the choir room or William McKinley High School or even 2009. She was in Rachel Berry's bedroom in New York City. More specifically, she was in Rachel Berry's bed.

"I'm up." Quinn forced herself upright. "And red."

"Once a Cheerio..."

"Don't even finish that sentence." She caught the toothbrush midair as Rachel tossed it to her.

Rachel handed her a robe that was draped over the foot of the bed. "Here. The heat's on, but it's still kind of chilly."

"Thanks." Quinn slipped on the robe and rose from the bed. Right about now, she realized that Rachel was fully dressed and nearly finished with her hair. "How long have you been up?"

"An hour."

Quinn prepped her toothbrush. "What time is it?"

"Uh, eight-thirty?"

"This vacation is wrecking my internal clock." She began brushing her teeth.

"It's probably all the late nights."

"OH MY GOD."

Rachel nearly dropped the curling iron. "What?"

"Madison!" Quinn began scrambling around the room, searching for her clothes and scooping each article of clothing up as she found it.

"Quinn."

"I can't believe this."

"Quinn."

"She'll wonder where I've been."

"Quinn!"

"What?"

"You talked to Dave last night."

"I did?"

"Yes. On the way to the bar. He told you they wouldn't wait up."

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, toothbrush in her mouth, with Rachel's robe hanging off her shoulders. "Oh yeah."

"So," Rachel walked over to her and ran her hand over Quinn's hair. "Calm down, get dressed, and we're going to meet them for breakfast."

Quinn obliged and finished brushing her teeth. "I didn't, um, forget about anything else, did I? I mean, after the bar, we obviously came back here..."

"And you stripped down to your underwear, crawled into my bed, and passed out."

"I did?"

Rachel nodded. "It's a good thing we got it on before you got totally wasted."

"Oh my god, we had sex last night?" Quinn desperately tried to keep a straight face.

Rachel didn't buy it. "All the years you spent torturing me weren't enough for you, Sky Splits?"

"Once a Cheerio..."

Rachel grabbed the front of the robe and pulled Quinn in for a deep kiss, then quickly released her. "Get dressed, I have a radio interview at ten."

"Can I take a shower, first?"

"Can you shower in ten minutes?"

"Barring any major distractions, yes."

"Again with the torture." Rachel glanced at the clock, as if considering just how much any particular distractions might impact her schedule. "Now, I know this might be pushing the limits because we might not be at this juncture in our... relationship... but do you want to borrow some clothes to avoid the Walk of Shame?"

"Considering we're meeting my daughter and cousin for breakfast, yes."

Quinn disappeared into the shower. When she emerged, a mere seven minutes later, there were a pair of jeans and a pink long-sleeved top that said "popular" across the front. The "L" in "popular" was a magic wand.

"The jeans will be short on you, but since you're wearing boots, it'll be okay."

"The jeans are fine. The shirt is--"

"Appropriate?"

"Pink."

"It's Popular or Walk of Shame."

Quinn rolled her eyes and put the shirt on. "Why do I feel like I'm in some kind of deleted scene from your show?"

"Galinda wishes."

"Please, even my eight year old sees the subtext there."

"Well, have you met her mother?"

"I have. She's very dedicated."

"She also talks through her sex dreams."

"I do not!"

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and looked Quinn square in the eye. "Are we gonna do this, or what?"

"Yeah, but you said that in the dream, not me." She stepped up to Rachel and looked down at her. Her stance was an attempt at physical intimidation, but her eyes were bright and playful "I mean, shut up!"

"And then there was something about giving 'them' all away... what was that about?" Her fingertips crept under the hem of the pink shirt and grazed the skin of Quinn's stomach.

"Your underwear." She brushed Rachel's hair off her shoulders with both of her hands, then rested her forearms there.

Rachel tilted her head up and nuzzled Quinn's neck. "All of them?"

"Apparently, you're very dedicated, too."

"I must have been very concerned about your reputation."

"Or you were just trying to get lucky."

"Can you get lucky in ten minutes?"

"Barring any major dis--"


	9. Chapter 9

9

By the time they were on their way to the pancake house, Rachel only had forty-three minutes until her interview.

"Are you even going to have time for breakfast?"

"The station's just around the corner from the restaurant."

"What's the show?"

"Um, Howard Stern?"

"You're going on The Howard Stern Show?"

"And we just..."

"Yes."

"You realize he's going to ask you all kinds of questions."

"That's kind of the point."

"But it'll be sex questions."

"Quinn, I'm not one of those bimbos who plans to go in and talk about my sexual exploits while sitting topless behind the microphone."

"I know you're not."

"And I won't talk about us... if you don't want me to."

"I don't... really care, actually. What would you say about me, anyway?"

"I reconnected with an old flame? Got lucky on a Thursday night? Have a thing for cheerleaders?"

Quinn didn't get a chance to interject, as they were now in front of the pancake house and Madison was waving furiously at them from the window.

"Mom! I beat Dave's highest score!" These were the first words out of her daughter's mouth as Quinn and Rachel slid into the booth.

"Wow. That's very good."

"I know. Because he's a drummer, like, for real."

"Wait." Rachel took a good look at Dave. "Dave Rygalski?" She turned her head to Quinn. "Your cousin is Dave Rygalski? The drummer?"

"Yeah." Quinn nodded.

Dave's eyes lit up. "Chauncey's Bar and Grill!"

"You two know each other?" Quinn whipped her head around to face Rachel, and dropped her voice. "You two didn't..."

"We used to be in a house band at this bar. What, five years ago?"

Dave nodded from behind his cup of coffee. "At least."

The waitress came around to take their order. "You want those Elphie style?" she asked when Madison requested pancakes.

"Yes! How did you know I'd want that?"

The waitress shrugged and said, "Just a guess."

"It might have something to do with your wardrobe," teased Quinn.

Madison's hoodie, beanie, necklace, even the sunglasses on the table, were all part of the showering of gifts Rachel had bestowed upon her the previous night.

"Then why didn't she ask you?" Madison eyed the pink top her mother.

Quinn looked down, then over at Rachel, who just deadpanned, "You'd probably like it Elphie style."

When the meal arrived, Rachel ate quickly, then excused herself to head off to her interview. She gave Madison a tight hug then suggested Quinn walk her to the door.

"You leave tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, early. Dave's driving us out to his mom's place in Connecticut."

Rachel laughed. "Stinky Aunt Mary, right?"

"That's the one."

"I have this interview, then a lunch meeting, and a holiday signing before tonight's show."

"So, you're saying I won't see you before we leave."

"Guess not. And you're in Connecticut for how long?"

"Maddy's staying through New Year's. I have to head home for the week between Christmas and then."

"Well, this sucks."

"Don't drag it out."

"Okay."

They stood there a moment, then Quinn flung her arms around Rachel and pulled her into a tight hug. "Remember to call this time."

--

_So, we've got Rachel Berry, star of Wicked, here right now.__  
__  
__Hi, Howard.__  
__  
__How wicked are you?__  
__  
__Um, I can get a little vicious, if I have to.__  
__  
__Like, hair pulling and nails and stuff?__  
__  
__Sure.__  
__  
__That's hot. Okay, so I have to be honest about this. I've seen your show. My wife loves it. We go every year, around this time. I don't love musical theatre, but I have kids, we know the Wizard of Oz. But you make it really sexy.__  
__  
__Aw, well, thanks.__  
__  
__I never thought I'd be turned on by a green chick. You probably have a lot of stamina from all that singing.__  
__  
__I do. I have years of training.__  
__  
__Can you give me lessons?__  
__  
__You want a vocal lesson?__  
__  
__Sure, let's go.__  
__  
__Not now, we'll meet up later. You don't have a jealous boyfriend, do you?__  
__  
__Not really.__  
__  
__Jealous girlfriend?__  
__  
__Um... not sure.__  
__  
__Not sure if she's jealous or not sure if she's your girlfriend?__  
__  
__A little of both, maybe.__  
__  
__Hot. Do you two do the hair pulling and nails thing?__  
__  
__Not yet.__  
__  
__Not yet. I like you. Well, next time bring her, we'll check in on the progress.__  
__  
__I'll ask her.__  
__  
__Is she as hot at you?__  
__  
__Yeah. Hotter, even. She was a cheerleader.__  
__  
__Definitely ask her to bring the skirt._

--

The ferry ride to Ellis Island conveniently timed with the radio interview, so Quinn was able to listen through her headphones without feeling guilty for not paying full attention to Madison, who was planted next to Dave at the side railing of the boat.

The interview was funny and full of innuendo, but Rachel held her own against the infamous talk show host. By the end of it, she hadn't given up too many details and Howard invited her to come back anytime.

Quinn let her mind wander about when she might actually get to see her, again. Christmas was on Tuesday, and then it was back to Ohio until New Year's Eve. A week wasn't really that long. And she was an adult.

So, then, why was she already missing Rachel? They hadn't even been apart for two hours. This was stupid. They weren't in high school. Pining was so immature.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Text message received.

_Did you catch the show? I tried to protect your virtue. ;)_

Quinn smirked and punched in a reply. _ I'll see if I can dig up that skirt.__  
__  
__XD -- P.S. I miss you. Is that lame?__  
__  
__Totally lame. But I haven't really been cool since before Maddy.__  
__  
__Try sunglasses. :P_


	10. Chapter 10

10

The drive to Connecticut was cold and dreary and way too early, even though Quinn had gone to bed hours earlier than she had the previous two nights. Madison was cranky from the early wake up and Quinn was slightly depressed that she didn't have more time with Rachel.

Dave tried to lighten the mood by finding the Motown station on the car's XM radio. After a few songs, and once her coffee had time to kick in, Quinn was singing along. Madison somehow managed to fall asleep through all of it.

Traffic wasn't too bad they got out of the city and they reached Hartford by eleven. When they got to Aunt Mary's, brunch was waiting for them along with kisses and face pinches for all three travelers. After the meal, Aunt Mary's husband, Uncle Bob, and Dave carried in the luggage while Madison gave, yet another, recitation of highlights from the New York trip. As other family members arrived for the weekend, this story was repeated time and time again. Quinn noticed the sparkle in her daughter's eye never faded when she talked about meeting Rachel Berry and taking center stage in the empty theatre.

Her phone was silent most of the day. Rachel had at least two special live holiday appearances to do before the evening's show. Around four, Quinn went downstairs to the basement bedroom she'd been assigned and collapsed onto the bed. She hoped to get a small nap in before the evening began, but her mind was too active. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Rachel. It didn't help that her daughter had been talking about the woman, non-stop, for the past five hours.

She tried to rationalize with her brain, suggesting it just give her fifteen minutes of peace so she could drift off to sleep, and then, if it wanted to, it could kick back on with all the Rachel imagery it wanted.

iBe my, be my little baby.../i

She glanced at the phone, ready to ignore the call. But it was Rachel.

"Hello?"

"Hey!"

"I thought you were feeding reindeer and lighting Christmas trees or something all day."

"Done and done. How's the family reunion?"

"Fine. Maddy's been dazzling everyone with tales of meeting THE Elphaba. I have a feeling they'll be on repeat for the entire weekend."

Rachel laughed. "Sorry about that."

"I can't blame her. She's not the only one on a Rachel Berry high."

"But you can't very well tell those stories over Christmas dinner."

"Nope."

"Our timing is for shit."

"To be fair, we've had plenty of time. And week isn't so bad."

"I guess."

They spent the next hour on the phone, small talking about Rachel's day and Quinn's family. Even though it was all just trivial information, neither of them wanted to get off the phone. Finally, Quinn heard Aunt Mary call her from upstairs and was forced to end the call.

During dinner, while Uncle Bob was conducting nothing short of an interrogation with one of her younger cousin's boyfriends, Dave elbowed Quinn. "You all right?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"You just look a little down."

"I'm okay."

He passed her the green bean casserole, which was her favorite dish. "Maybe these will help."

"I'm totally fine." She took the casserole, anyway.

Later, they all played Star Wars Monopoly, which reminded Quinn of an incident in high school when they'd played the very same game at one of Rachel's glee parties. The boys, even Kurt, got into a huge fight over who got to be Obi Wan and Anakin, while trying to avoid getting stuck with Jar Jar Binks. Rachel, for some reason, was dead set on being Han Solo. Quinn had originally chosen Padme, because she liked Natalie Portman in Garden State and V for Vendetta, but switched for Leia at the last minute.

For some reason, she felt the need to text Rachel about the game, asking if she remembered, even though she knew she'd be onstage.

At eleven-fifteen, her phone chimed through with a response.

_Of course I remember. The boys were being stupid. I was Han and you were Leia. Which, in hindsight, was somewhat obvious.__  
__  
__I have no idea what you mean by that. ;) How was the show?__  
__  
__Wicked__  
__  
__Nerd. And wtf, did you just get off stage and run to your phone?__  
__  
__I was hoping someone special might have left a message.__  
__  
__Did they?__  
__  
__Maybe.__  
__  
__I repeat: Nerd.__  
__  
__I gotta go get the green off. Will you be up for a while?__  
__  
__Sure.__  
__  
_The fact that Rachel was so eager to communicate with her first thing after the show made Quinn smile. She felt like a kid again. Madison was asleep in one of the upstairs bedrooms with her cousins, so she was alone, down here. Well, technically, Dave was asleep in the second bedroom down there, but he was a whole room away.

She settled into the peaceful quiet and waited for the phone to ring. When she opened her eyes back up, the digital clock told her it was well after two in the morning. Two AM? Maybe Rachel went out with the cast. Maybe she just forgot to call. Maybe Quinn slept through the three times Rachel did call, over an hour ago.

She sat up on the bed and studied the phone screen. There, under Rachel's name and picture it said: Missed call 12:12am, Missed call 12:32am, Missed call 12:59am. Quinn checked the phone volume. It was turned up enough. She must have crashed, hard.

For a brief moment, she considered if it was too late to call back but decided she didn't care. She wouldn't want Rachel to worry about her, after all.

The phone rang on the other end of the line, once, twice.

"Rhm, hello?"

"Rach?"

"Hey, you. I thought you must have gone to bed."

"I did. By accident. Did I wake you up? I'll let you go back to sleep."

"No! Don't. I'd rather talk to you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"I can hear the tv, what are you watching?"

"White Christmas. But I fell asleep. Who won Monopoly?"

"No one. Everyone got bored before it ended."

"Why even play the game if you're not serious about it?"

"Not everyone is built for competition."

"I don't get it."

"I don't expect you to."

"Don't forget, I've seen you cheat at Scrabble."

"Okay, I did not cheat in that game. No matter what you or Puck said about it."

"Quinn, mashing multiple words together is not within the rules."

"They are called compound words. And, do you really want to bring this up, again? I seem to remember that we didn't talk for three days after that incident."

"That's because you were a sore loser. Granted, you were pretty hot when you got so pissed off about it."

"I was not hot. I was being a bitch. A pregnant bitch, at that."

"Which can be hot."

"Do you want me to start being mean to you, again?"

"Maybe. We'll see."

Silence. Then Quinn said, "Should I let you go to sleep?"

"Not yet."

When Quinn woke up later that morning, Rachel was no longer on the other end. The phone history displayed they'd stayed connected on the line until almost five, but Quinn couldn't remember anything past three-thirty. She must have fallen asleep on the phone. Hopefully, Rachel fell asleep, too. Quinn laughed. Knowing Rachel, she could have been talking the entire time and never noticed.


	11. Chapter 11

11

It was Sunday. Christmas Eve Eve. Two days until the twenty-fifth. The entire family went to Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob's church where there was a short sermon and then a Christmas production put on by the Sunday School classes.

More than once during the sermon, Quinn caught Madison trying engage her cousins in conversation. She gently reminded her to pay attention, ignoring the glares from nearby parishioners who likely thought the girl should be removed and reprimanded. Once the play began, Madison's attention became a bit more focused and Quinn's mind began to wander. Watching the kids perform on stage, reminded her not just of Rachel, but of glee and how much she'd had. And how it had ultimately ended up changing her life. The program ended and she felt slightly guilty about zoning out, since the kids had probably worked hard on their show.

After church, the entire family went to lunch then to check out the tree at Hartford's city center. Quinn hadn't heard from Rachel all morning and hadn't yet been able to find a moment to slip away to send a message or leave a voice mail. She knew there was a matinee show on Sundays and then Rachel was supposed to be appearing at yet another event. This one, however, would be televised, so Quinn figured she'd at least get to see Rachel, even if it wasn't in person.

The live holiday special was supposed to air at eight, and Madison was insistent that everyone be present in the living room by seven forty-five. She didn't want anyone to miss out seeing her new best friend, Rachel Berry, because maybe, just maybe, she might give her a shout-out.

The special began, right on time. Ryan Seacrest greeted all the program viewers and promised a spectacular line-up of guests for the evening. Just after the half hour break, Rachel was on the screen, belting out a medley of Christmas tunes. Each time the camera made a close pass by her, she made eye contact and always seemed to know which camera was on her at any given time.

Quinn's phone vibrated from her sweatshirt pocket. She planned to ignore it until the segment was over, but Madison whipped her head around.

"Mom! Shhh! I mean, please, shhh."

Quinn pulled the phone out to dismiss the call, but the screen showed Rachel's picture. She looked up at the tv, then at the phone, which stopped vibrating as the call went to voice mail. After a moment, the phone buzzed again. Quinn slipped out of the living room and into the front hall.

"Hello?"

"The moon is awesome. You should check it out."

"How are you doing this?"

"Um, I'm outside... looking up."

"You're onstage, right now."

"Tape delay."

"What?"

"It's a tape delay. In case something doesn't go right."

"Oh. And now I feel like a hundred year old lady."

"The moon. Go look."

"Aw, it'll be just like that movie with the mice." Quinn grabbed her coat off the hook by the door and quietly slipped out the front door. She didn't want to disrupt the rest of the family while they were watching Tape Delay Rachel.

"Are you looking?"

"Patience, Berry." She moved down the front walk toward the street. "I don't... see it. Are you sure you're seeing the moon and not, like a billboard?"

Someone grabbed Quinn from behind. Out of instinct, she twisted away and punched the attacker in the stomach.

"OW!" Rachel doubled over in pain.

"OH MY GOD. I am so sorry!" Quinn's defensive stance quickly shifted as she grabbed Rachel to keep her from falling down.

"Why would you do that?"

"Me? Why would you jump out at a single mother in the dark?"

"Point... taken." Rachel took a deep breath and wrapped an arm around Quinn's waist.

"Are you okay?"

"My pride stings a little bit."

"You'll recover."

"You've got a pretty good arm." Rachel straightened herself all the way upright. "For a cheerleading realtor."

"Well, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here? And just how long is that tape delay?" She grabbed Rachel's arm. "Oh my god, I'm the Time Traveler's Wife."

Rachel cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a proposal?" She saved Quinn from having to answer by continuing, "We taped that stuff last week."

"Trying to avoid any nipple slips during the Seacrest Christmas Special?"

"I tried to tell them it would boost the ratings, but they wouldn't have it." She slipped her gloved hands behind Quinn's neck and pulled her into a kiss. "Hi, by the way."

"Your nose is really cold." Quinn kissed her, again, then began to lead her up the walk toward the house. "Seriously, how did you even know where the house was?"

"Dave gave me the address at breakfast while you were at the counter asking about soy milk."

"On Friday?"

"I wouldn't have made it the whole week. So, I told him I wanted to surprise you. He did not, however, suggest that I might need to duck while surprising you."

They stood on the porch in front of the door. "Wait, did Maddy know?"

"I made her swear on her Wicked iPod cover not to tell."

Something knocked against the front window. Quinn turned to see Dave and Madison waving at them. Rachel waved back, then signaled to Dave that she wanted just another minute alone. Dave laughed, then put his hand over Madison's eyes and pulled her away from the window.

"This isn't, um, too weird, is it? Me showing up like this?"

"I don't know. Is this going to be like the time you got a crush on Mr. Schue?"

"That is so not fair. One, I was a sophomore, and two, he was a near perfect match with me in that duet!" Rachel's arms crossed over her chest.

Quinn smirked at her. "You wanna go inside?"

"That depends. Are you going to continue to make fun of me and my youthful indiscretions?"

"I might. But it'll be a lot warmer."

"Damn you for making sense." Rachel tried to glare at her, but Quinn leaned down and kissed her one more time before opening the front door.

Inside, Quinn's family was still gathered in the living room, but Madison had already informed them that The Rachel Berry was Here in This house and proceeded to introduce the performer to everyone in the room. Part of Quinn was jealous that she now had to share Rachel with everyone else, but Madison was so proud to show off her new celebrity friend, she couldn't really justify being upset.

Eventually, the family members retired to bed. With Madison and the other kids tucked in, Quinn took Rachel downstairs to the basement for some privacy. Dave had left to go meet up with some townies for drinks at a local bar. He extended an invitation, but when the women politely declined, he smiled and promised not to be back before three.

Quinn pushed the bedroom door shut as Rachel settled on the edge of the bed.

"They all seem really great."

"Well, they're not like my parents."

Rachel nodded. Quinn sat down next to her and changed the subject.

"How long are you here?"

"Two days. We don't have shows on Mondays and most of Broadway's dark Christmas Day."

"So, you're here to spend Christmas with me? Well, us?"

"If that's okay. With you. And them."

"Fine by me." Quinn traced her fingers over Rachel's cheek, then stroked the side of her neck, just below her ear.

Rachel closed the space between them, kissing Quinn first on the lips, then jaw, then ear. They eased back onto the bed, Rachel's sweater getting tangled up in her arms, then landing on the floor. Quinn tugged at her own jeans until they landed next to the sweater. Their bodies found their way under the covers, trying to stay warm in the cool basement, and attempting multiple methods to increase the heat.

By the time they heard Dave's door shut after he'd returned from the bar, they were flushed and breathless and kicking off the covers.


	12. Chapter 12

12

Quinn opened her eyes, disrupted from her sleep by the sound of thumping on the floor above her. The kids were awake, apparently. Next to her, dark hair splayed across the pillow, face hidden somewhere under the edge of the covers, was Rachel. After a few more thumps, she stirred.

"What is that?"

"Children."

Quinn kissed the top of Rachel's head, then reluctantly emerged from the bed. She grabbed her pajamas and robe off the nearby armchair and threw them on.

"Come back, it's cold!"

"In about sixty seconds, there will be an eight year old knocking at that door, begging you to come up for breakfast."

Rachel's head popped up, her disheveled hair hung around her face like some kind of Maxim magazine model. "Right now?"

"Mom!" There was knocking at the bedroom door.

Quinn gestured to the door. "See? I'll run interference while you get presentable. There's extra stuff down here in the guest bathroom if you need anything." She leaned down to pick up Rachel's over-sized overnight bag, then nearly dropped it because of the weight. "Though, knowing you, you probably brought everything you might need, plus three spares."

"You know me well." She offered a sleepy smile.

"Mom! Is Rachel in there?" came Maddy's voice through the door.

Quinn cracked the door open just enough to talk to her daughter. "Yes, but you need to chill out. Why don't you go make sure Uncle Bob remembered to set Rachel's place?"

"Okay!" Maddy clambered back up the basement steps.

Quinn shut the door. "I just bought you five minutes."

Rachel was already digging though her bag. "How are we going to... I mean, how do you want to handle... this?"

"What, us?"

Rachel nodded. "I know you said they're not your parents, but--"

"Um, I hate to break this to you, but... you're not the first girl I brought home to a family function."

"Oh."

"It was, like, five years ago."

"Technically, I brought myself." Rachel awkwardly pulled the sheet up around her.

"And I'm glad you did." Quinn knelt on the bed across from her, the giant bag between them. "I didn't mean to just drop that on you. But it was a long time ago. And she wasn't you."

"Well, I am a one of a kind." She began to dig through the bag. "Does this mean Maddy know about... you... and me?"

"I haven't talked to her about it, really. I mean, not about us specifically."

"But you think she'll be okay with it?"

"That her mom is dating Elphaba? Uh, yeah. I think she'll manage."

More thumping.

"You're running out of time!"

"Stop talking to me, then."

"You're a stage legend and you can't talk and dress at the same time?"

"I'm not really a legend, yet. I'm too young."

"Get dressed!"

-

It was family tradition to go last minute shopping on Christmas Eve. Everyone also brought specific gifts they'd bought before hand, but that morning, they all drew names and were given four hours to go out and buy that person a gift.

"We call it Procrastination Santa. And there's a twenty-seven dollar limit." Quinn explained to Rachel.

"Twenty-seven?"

Quinn nodded. "Uncle Bob makes the rules, we just play the game."

"Who'd you get?"

"I can't tell you. That defeats the entire purpose."

"I feel kind of weird. I just met these people last night."

"Well, here's your chance to impress then with your superior observations skills."

"True. Can I at least shop with you?"

"What if one of us has the other's name?"

"Do you?"

"Stop trying to trick me!"

"Fine, I'll meet you back here at... when?"

"Two."

"Can you handle being away from me that long?"

"Can you?"

"I'll try."

-

Two o'clock actually came rather quickly. By the time everyone left the house, maneuvered through the streets of Hartford, and came back home, the four hours barely felt like enough time.

The kids convinced Quinn and Rachel to join them in Star Wars Monopoly, but Rachel made them swear to stay through the entire game and to let her be Han Solo. Quinn smiled and immediately snatched up the Leia piece. By the time the game ended, dinner was ready, and after dinner was another trip to the church for Christmas Eve service.

After the service, Quinn and Rachel lagged behind the rest of the family as they walked back to the house. The streets surrounding Aunt Mary's house were illuminated with lights and decorations and several people strolled through the neighborhood, taking in the displays of holiday cheer.

BOOMF.

A snowball hit Quinn in the shoulder. She turned to see Dave ducking behind a giant inflatable Santa.

"Oh, he did not."

Rachel was already packing snow between her hands. "He did." She waited for him to pop his head out, then whipped the snowball at him. It sailed over his head and hit a college kid behind him.

"Sorry!" Both Quinn and Rachel called out to the guy.

He just smiled at them, then scooped up a handful of snow. This quickly escalated into a neighborhood snowball fight and, by the end of it, Rachel and Quinn were both aching from laughter and shivering from the wet, cold snow.

Down in the basement, they quickly shed their wet clothes and climbed into Quinn's bed.

Quinn shivered. "It's not helping that you're just as cold as I am."

"Did you turn on the electric blanket?"

"Y-yes."

"We're supposed to spoon. That's how you don't die from hypothermia."

"But your hands are so cold."

"We'll they can't get warm if we don't do something!" protested Rachel.

"Maybe we should take a shower."

"That never works. One person always gets in the way of the water and the other person is left cold." Rachel was very matter-of-fact about it.

"So much for romance."

"I'm a sucker for romance, but I also like to be warm."

They shifted under the covers, and Rachel snuggled up to Quinn. "You still have ice hands!"

"Deal with it."

"Okay, just don't move."

For about a full minute, they were still and Quinn began to feel like she might be warming up. Then Rachel threw back the covers and jumped out of bed.

"What part of don't move do you not understand?" She pulled the blankets back up around herself.

Rachel quickly ran over to her bag, unzipped one of the side pockets, and took something out. She leaped back onto the bed and burrowed between the sheets. "Sorry. I forgot something." Her hand popped out from the covers and placed a small wrapped gift on top of Quinn's stomach.

"What is this?"

"Well, Quinn, traditionally, Christmas is a gift giving holiday."

"You already did so much for Maddy."

"That was for Maddy. This is for you."

Quinn sat up and tried to keep as much of the covers around her as possible. She picked up the package, which was no bigger than a few inches square, and carefully pulled at the tape and paper. Unwrapped, Quinn held a green gift box in her hands. Something about it was familiar. Under the lid was a silver chain and on the chair was a charm. The charm was a Han Solo laser blaster.

"Where did you... I mean, how did you even find this?"

"I had it made, actually."

"When, today?"

Rachel shook her head. "A while ago."

-

"They're so stupid."

"They'll get over it. They always do. That's how boys are."

Rachel carefully rested her hand on Quinn's stomach, hoping to catch some movement from the baby. "No, I mean, why even fight over who gets to be Anakin? He whines all the time. Oh, no, the Dark Side. Whatever. Same with Luke. All those Skywalker boys are big babies."

"What about Leia?"

"Leia does not whine and she looks hot with those Endor braids."

Quinn laughed. "You're serious business about this Han Solo thing, aren't you?"

"He does what he needs to do to survive. I can relate to that."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind having a Han around to keep me safe from the Empire. And, you know, whatever else high school throws at me."

Rachel laid her head on Quinn's shoulder and closed her eyes as Quinn's fingers traced over her back. "I could be your Han Solo." But then Rachel worried that was too much. So she continued, "I mean, I'd need a vest and some killer boots."

Quinn chuckled. "And a Wookie."

"Finn's like a Wookie."

"Oh my god, I just imagined him with long hair." They broke into a fit of giggles.

-

"How long ago?" Quinn flipped the box over and realized why it looked familiar. The gold imprint on the bottom read iNewton Jewelers, Lima, OH/i.

"It was supposed to be for luck. At Nationals. But I... kinda chickened out."

"You? Chickened out? That's a first."

"I thought you would think it was stupid. Or that I was asking too much from you."

"When you left Lima, I wanted to go with you."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I had a brand new baby and you were already on your way to stardom."

Rachel rested her chin on Quinn's shoulder. "I was in love with you, you know."

Quinn turned her head and caught Rachel's lips in a kiss. "Why'd we wait so long? For this?"

"Because we were young and just as dumb as those big oafish Wookie boys."

"Well," Quinn carefully took the necklace out of the box and handed it to Rachel, before pulling her blond hair away from her neck. "If you're ready to fill a pair of bitchin' boots, I think I'd like to keep you around."

Rachel clasped the delicate chain around Quinn's neck, then kissed the span of skin under her ear. "Don't forget the vest."

"I love you."

"I know."

-

_end_


End file.
